


Remeption's Shield

by ShadedCat



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bastard Childeren, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childeren Out of Wedlock, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crushes, Debt, Domestic Infighting, Family, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Food, French-Speaking Lancelot of the Lake (Fate/Grand Order), Gambling, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Japan, Multi, Okay maybe not entirely true for the third AU, Orphanage, Relationship Spoilers - Freeform, Secret Crush, Spoilers, Swearing, Violence, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadedCat/pseuds/ShadedCat
Summary: [Honestly, I feel like this has some character spoilers in F/GO and F/A, someone tell me if it is does]Lancelot du Lac knows he's not a perfect human being. He may be approaching his mid-forties, but he's still got the body and looks of someone in his early thirties. He drinks, he gambles, he doesn't groom himself, and has a very bad penchant for women. His son hates him, he's ostracized himself from his former employers and his friends, and... A teenage girl shows up at his door claiming to be his daughter?





	1. Mon Roi, Comment Je t'ai Manqué

There was a pounding on the door, hopefully it was debt collectors. He liked debt collectors. They were always illegal guys, so they can’t press charges when he breaks their arms with their own pipes.  
  
The pounding continued.  
  
“Shut up!” He growled. His head pounded, too much sake last night. He needed to focus.  
  
Left foot. Right foot. Left foot. Right, oh and there’s the floor. The feeling of the tatami floor barely even phased him. The unkempt mop that was his hair did, flopping over his face annoying.  
  
Still that incessant knocking.  
  
“By all that is holy— Shut up! I’m moving dammit!” He pushed himself to his feet now, thoroughly enraged and aching to beat someone’s face. Forget breaking his arms, he was mad enough to break all his limbs. Slowly.  
  
“What?” He wrenched the door open, eyes feral and blinking at the sudden light.  
  
“Uh...”  
  
The person at the door wasn’t some ugly thirty something year old debt collector. If it was, then at least that thirty something year old debt collector would be in his sightline. No, this person was shorter.  
  
And a woman, a girl really if he had to guess. Aside from the large rack on her being the only womanly attribute she had, he saw that her face and stature made her out to be younger. Short lavender hair and thick glasses that eclipsed here eyes. Maybe she’s fifteen? Maybe, big maybe!  
  
If he was younger, and considering he was in his forties now, he’d not mind at all that some schoolgirl was knocking at his door. Then again, if he was younger he’d be clocked over the head by at least three people for having that thought even cross his mind.  
  
“What do you want? If you’re a girl scout, I ain’t buying cookiez,” he growled. He moved to turn and slam the door, but the girl wedged a suitcase before it shut. “What the hell.”  
  
“Wait, p-please don’t move.” He turned to see the girl now had a photo in her hand. Now with her face held higher, he was able to see her eyes. Violet eyes, like an orchid. Like...  
  
Lancelot du Lac’s blood went cold.  
  
_“You wasteful, good for nothing father!”_  
  
“Fuck you!”  
  
“No, fuck you! After everything they gave to you, everytime they stood by you, you just spat in their face! You spat in **ALL** their faces!”

 __  
“You have no right—“  
  
“I have every right to judge you!”  
  
“You are the son! Not the father! What I say and do means you’re to support all of it!”  
  
“You are my father! That makes everything you’ve done even worse! How can I or anyone else ever support what you’ve done you bastard!”  
  
“To call your own father a bastard, what does that make you?”  
  
“Something far worse for not even trying to stop it...”  
  
“Where are you going? Gallahad? Gallahad! Get back here!”  
  
“I’m not coming back until I’ve fixed your mistakes father! All your damn mistakes!”  
  
“L-Lancelot, sir?” The girl’s voice broke him out of his memories. He stared down at her, wide eyed and breathing deeply. “A-Are you alright?” He didn’t make any verbal response, just a stiff nod of his head. Any sort of fatigue he’s acquired in the last few days and the hangover he felt from the night prior gone like a cold shower washed over him.  
  
“... Do you have something to tell me girl?” Lancelot finally managed to say. The girl seemed to tense for a moment, before she stood with her back straight and head held high. Perfect posture and rightlyness, like him.  
  
“L-Lancelot du L-Lac, I’m Mashu Kyrelight.” His brain scanned through the many many many names of the woman he’d had in the many years of his life. If any was named Kyrelight she... She’ll have been one of the many he’s drown himself in before Gallahad came. “S-Sir Lancelot... I think I’m your daughter.”  
  
It was at this moment the limited physical contents and multiple liquid contents that were in Lancelot’s stomach decided to make their intent known. Before he could act, Lancelot felt bile and filth wretch up from his gut through his throat.  
  
“Hragthr!”  
  
“Oh my gosh!”  
  
Right onto her shoes... Great.  
  
Mashu, for her part, didn’t freak out as much at Lancelot emptying his stomach on her shoes as the fact after he did so, he began to topple forward and onto her. She scrambled to catch, buckling slightly under his weight before she steadied herself enough to keep him propped up.  
  
“U-Uh, sir Lancelot?”  
  
“HrmMmMm...” It seemed that would not be the last of upheavals. In any event, Mashu decided that being vomited on twice in a row was something that superceded the need for manners and etiquette no matter what Dr. Romani said about keeping to them.  
  
Shedding off her vomit covered shoes, she quickly began carry Lancelot to his haphazardly arranged bathroom. Razors, cologne, and other products seemingly falling off the shelf mirror and into the toilet next to it.  
  
“Hragthr! HRAGTHR!” Lancelot let loose another wave of bile, luckily this time not on Mashu. The girl had been kind enough however to hold the man’s absurdly long lavender hair. “Hragthr!”  
  
He must drink a lot... Mashu thought with a grimace. The sounds that Lancelot... Her father... Was making were horrible, strident like a dying cat.  
  
After ten minutes, so it became simply dry heaving from the man. Strangled coughs and choked breaths as his grip on the porcelain throne of heroes eventually relented and his body grew slack.  
  
He pushed back so he was facing forward, back resting on the edge of the bowl. Mashu finally let go of the man’s hair, looking noticeably more cautious than prior.  
  
“I-I don’t have a daughter,” he started, and immediately wished he hadn’t seeing the look of hurt cross the girl’s face. He meant to retract or fix his statement, but his tongue was too slow, cut off by Mashu.  
  
“I... He... He said that you’d s-say that, so he had this.” Tentatively, she reached into a pocket on the inside of her coat. It was a piece of paper, folded eight times and when it unfolded revealed a graph, or rather two set side by side for comparison.  
  
One side of the graph was labeled “sire”. Below sire a name was placed, “L. du Lac”. His name, Lancelot du Lac. The other graph held another label reading “offspring”. Below offspring the name “M. Kyrelight” was typed. Both graphs were set beside each other. One simple message written at the bottom of percentage reading 99.999999%, Subject: M. Kyrelight has a 99.999999% paternity match with Subject: L. du Lac.  
  
“I hope this is enough.” Mashu handed the paper to the man, whon stared at it with wide silent eyes. “W-We can do another if you...”  
  
It was clear that Lancelot wasn’t listening. No his mind was on other things, the small things. The small things written in the bio section of M. Kyrelight.

Age: 16 - Older than he thought, but only by a year.

Weight: 46 kg

Height: 158 cm - Short compared to him.

Her place of birth wasn’t written on the sheet, nor was there any other information about where Mashu… His daughter had been these last six teen years. It seemed **he** hadn’t thought that information necessary, though knowing **him** , it would come up later.

“U-Uh, sir Lancelot?” Mashu spoke up, garnering his attention to her. He looked at her, though in her eyes it was difficult to tell where he was looking. Lavender locks had obscured his eyes, so he could be looking anywhere. “A-Are you alright?”

“I-I’m fine.” Lancelot’s vision grew dark before passing out, slumping forward with a snore. The shock and hangover doubling his body into a small nap. One last thought however hit his mind at the same moment his forehead hit the floor.

_Oh my God, I thought about flirting with my DAUGHTER!_

Mashu stared at the now unconscious Lancelot… Her father. Sixteen years without one and suddenly she found herself whisked away to Fuyuki City by a strange man on an account that there she would meet her father.

She met… Someone. A man she supposes, his name being Lancelot du Lac, but by no means he didn’t seem like a father at all.

Father's are meant to be calm and nuturing, providing guidance and support for their childeren. They were supposed to be clean, noble, and knightly. Father's are... Father's are people who were to supposed to fill an ever present void in Mashu's heart ever since she saw that one boy run and hug the man that he called "father" back at the orphanage. A void that felt conflicted as she saw this man who lay unconscious at the foot of a toilet with his rear facing higher than his face in his current position.

Mashu sighed before she stood up and helping up the still unconscious Lancelot. He was muttering in his sleep now, in a language that she didn’t know.

 _French_ , she thinks. _It’s the same language Miss Antoinette and Mister Sanson speak._ She recalled about her caretakers at the orphanage. _I wonder what they’re doing now…_  

A somber look marred Mashu’s face before she shook her head, clearing it away before focusing on Lancelot. She gently laid him in what she hoped was his bed, a simple futon without any sort of blankets or covers.

“ _Mon roi… Le blâme est le mien…_ _Ce n’est pas sa faute, seulement la mienne… Mon roi! Mon roi! **ARTHUR!** ”_ Mashu nearly screamed at the sudden shout by the man. He rose up from the futon, raising like he was possessed. His eyes were open but the only light that shone in his eyes was the dull white of his own sclera as he began to shout. “ ** _ARTHUR! ARTHUR! AAARTHUUUR!_** ”

Mashu could only hunker down and cover her head as it felt like the very ground shake at the man’s bellow. She looked up just as all the madness left his body and Lancelot flopped back down on the futon, boneless and unmoving.

She waited several minutes before tentatively standing, taking one last look at Lancelot’s sleeping body before turning her attention to his apartment.

Dirty alone wasn’t enough to describe the room. Wine bottles, beer cans, and foreign alcohol containers littered the interior as common as the multitudes of dust. Dirty clothes and gravure magazines likewise covered the floor. Heat rose to her face when she saw the poses and the… Lack of dress the girls on the gravure magazines were in.

Only thing to do then; clean up this mess.

 

  
  
  


 


	2. Three Odd Ducklings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mordred's got father issues
> 
> Fran's got speech issues
> 
> And Jekyll has many, many issues...
> 
> They all however can agree with one thing; six large guys surrounding a lone teen girl is anything but an innocuoussituation...

Mordred stared up at the bill board, her face contorting in to a look of absolute disgust. The more she stared at it, the more she got pissed off at it. It was mocking her, she knew it. How could he be starring down upon her when she knew that she was better than him in every way.

“Uuh…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know I’m takin a while,” Mordred turned on her heel to see the one who called her. Along with the speaker, there was also a wiry young man standing beside them, his hands struggling to hold the multitude of books. “Oi, oi, your gonna drop those with your bean pole arms.”

“I’m not _that_ weak,” he replied before he straightened his glasses.

“Uuh.”

“Fran’s right, you even had trouble opening that door,” Mordred replied cheekily before her arm shot underneath the pile of books and holding them up effortlessly. “Why do you even need this many books anyway?”

“AP Chemistry, AP Biology, AP—”

“Forget I asked Jekyll,” Mordred interrupted. He only smiled loosely before grabbing a few books off the top of pile.

“At least let me help a little,” Henry Jekyll offered. Mordred just shrugged before the three began to walk again.

“Uuh.”

“You wanna get something sweet for your Papa?” Mordred translated. The girl nodded, the horn ornament cutting through the air sharply by her doing so. “Shit, I dunno any places that sell sweets. Jekyll?”

“I think there’s a new bakery over in the Shopping District, we can try going there.”

“Uuh!”

“… Mordred?”

“What, really? Tch, and you call yourself a scholar.”

“I’m a chemist, not a linguist. But if I were to hypothesize, the fact that Fran is rocking on her heels means that she wants to go to the bakery.”

“Uuh!”

“… Do you need a translation again?”

“No Mordred, I got it.” Jekyll sighed. Mordred only smirked before she and Fran walked forward ahead of the repressed Jekyll. “Might as well pick something up for Hans… Knowing him he’s probably still writing.”

“That shitty little brother of yours? Get him a wasabi-chu for all his “work” on the book he’ll never publish,” Mordred scoffed.

“Uuh.”

“See? Even Fran agrees.”

“I don’t think that’s what Fran meant.” Mordred was about to argue that point before something caught her eye. It was girl, which in an of itself was innocuous in nature. However, it was who was around her which seemed to divert her attention, as well as what she heard when she trained her ears there.

“Hey there, those bags look a little heavy.”

“Why don’t help you carry those melons, eh?”

“E-Eh? I don’t have any melons. Just some rice and a few other things.”

“Really? Then are you cooking up some meat? I got a few sau—”

“Oi, oi, oi, what do you all seem to be doing?” Mordred walked into the alleyway after dumping the books back on Jekyll, both as a means of keeping him occupied and to free up her hands.

“Buzz off bitch, why don’t you go play dolls—” That man, perhaps college aged at most what with a premature goatee and malnourished stature, did not get to say much more as his face was suddenly smashed into a nearby wall.

“I’m going to pretend that the last sentence wasn’t ever said,” Mordred replied with a snarl.

“You bitc—”

“Huh? Did anyone hear anything?” Mordred asked as she took the fist that was aimed at her face diverted it away. Then before the man had any time to think, she shot her foot out to hit his thigh and cause his leg to shoot backwards before her knee caught him in the chin, knocking him backwards and out. “I swear, all I hear are buzzing flies. Bzz, bzz, bzz.”

The remaining men decided to cut their losses and run, grabbing their unconscious friends and leaving the alley.

“Uuh!” Fran stuck out her foot, causing one to trip over himself and run into Jekyll, who spontaneously dropped his books on the man’s foot.

“Oops,” Jekyll replied, though for a second the light behind his glasses seemed to shine much much brighter. A feral smile flashing on his face when the man looked up. “That was my bad, hehehe~”

The man screamed before crawling away on his hands and knees, causing quite a spectacle down the road. It was actually… Quite disturbing, seeing a grown man in that sort of distress.

“Good grief, it’s like he saw the devil or something?” Mordred turned back to the girl whom was being harassed.  She had thick rimmed glasses, and large doe like eyes that looked at Mordred with confusion.

“Uh… Thank you?”

“No need to mention what we just did, only that you sing our name in praise when you can!” Mordred boasted. Fran and Jekyll flanked behind her, raising their arms up like fanfare. “Know that today you were saved by a future King!”

“… But we live in a democratic country.”

“We’ll overthrow the old kingdom and make one anew!”

“Uuh!”

 “Wait, where’d my books go?”

“Oo, is that meat in your groceries?” Mordred looked at the plastic bag with glee. “As payment for our services,  how about you—”

“Hey! You three, are you soliciting more people again!”

“Oh damnit,” Mordred cursed before turning to see another girl at the entrance to alley. Pink hair and a black scarf trialing behind her while she was in a school uniform. “We gotta run!”

“Uuh!”

“W-Wait, I’m still missing my physics—”

“Now!”

“Wah!”

“Stop! Mordred, you owe the library fines!”

“A king owes no one, but themselves!”

Mashu Kyrielite stared in absolute confusion at the spectacle in front of her. She had only gone out to get groceries for Lancelot’s pantry, only to first be contacted in a phone scam to “destroy all who oppress”, be accosted by some men, and then see said men be scared and beaten before her rescuers be chased away by a girl.

_“The city he lives in isn’t… Normal by any means, but I feel like you’ll find your way there…”_

Mashu sighed again, realizing how true and unexpected that the man’s words would be. If she knew it would be like this, she’d hoped to at least have a place of her own to stay.

Her original plan was to stay at Lancelot’s place, even if he didn’t acknowledge her at the very least he’d let her stay for a day before she found another place to stay at. With what she saw in that apartment, she’d decided to find better lodgings to not to Lancelot’s issues.

Walking back through Fuyuki City back to said apartment however was less eventful that the incident in the alleyway. Though there was still some oddities, like a man in a blue rubber suit being electrocuted, another man in a leather jacket riding in motocycle racing a girl on a horse, and then there was another advertisement for the idol band “Waifu Laifu”. One of the girls in the band still seemed very familiar…

Eventually Mashu reached Lancelot’s apartment building once more, now noting that the building was in a notably rundown shape. It also seemed that there weren’t that many people who lived in the building.

“Ah!” Mashu nearly screamed when she heard a rather gruff voice behind her. She scooted to the side and turned to see a massive figure behind her. Large and slanted black and red eyes looked at her passively, while the billowing mass of white hair looked akin to an attached cloud. “Scuse me…”

“Y-Yes!” Mashu watched as the large man lumbered passed her and towards an apartment room at the end of the unit. He had to duck down and narrow his profile in order to make it through the door.

_I see, there are others who do live here…_

“Lancelot-san! Lancelot-san!” There was someone at Lancelot’s apartment door, hitting the door forcibly. He had a terse expression on his face. “Lancelot-san, your rent is due!”

“Uh, excuse me.” Mashu approached the man, though now that she was closer, she found that he seemed to only a little older than her. “Are you the landlord?”

“Huh?” He turned to her now, and aside from his bright blue eyes, looked the most normal out of everyone she’s seen. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know Lancelot-san was expecting guest, my apologies.”

“N-No, it’s fine. I’m just—”

" _His daughter"_

“..here to help him out at the request of a friend,” Mashu replied quickly. The other boy looked dubious before sighing though it seemed to relieve some tension in his shoulders.

“Well maybe you’ll have better luck than most.” He looked off to the side before he stood straighter up. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Emiya Gudao, my father actually owns the land and converted one of the buildings into a lodge house.”

“Mashu Kyrelight, I’m, uh, new to Fuyuki City.” Mashu bowed in response to Emiya Gudao’s own.

“But you’re here to help Lancelot-san?”

“Y-Yes! Uh, it’s… It’s a very confusing…” Gudao only laughed lightly before scratching the back of his head.

“Well it’s not really any of my business, but if you don’t have a place to stay, we do have a room you can use.”

“N-No, I don’t wish to intrude—”

“Nonsense, I’ll just consider it an advancement payment for dealing with Lancelot-san,” Gudao replied with a laugh. Mashu would’ve liked to argue to contest that point, however before she could Gudao thrusted something in to her hands, a key. “Your room is just beside his, it was nice meeting you Mashu-san!” Then without Gudao left with a smile on his face as he was grabbed by several people in black and wearing skull masks.

“Quickly contractor!”

“Yes, you are desperately needed!” Then before Mashu’s eyes he was taken away as they leapt over the guardrail and onto the street. Gudao was laughing the entire time he was taken, never once showing any sign of fear contrary to Mashu’s own face.

Mashu stared in abject horror before sighing and slumping against the wall, her quota for strangeness in her life being topped in one day. Deciding that if the world was simply going to toss her weirdness, Mashu decided to just roll with it and flicked her eyes to the door next to Lancelot’s own.

At least her living situation was handled, though school would be another hurdle…

Unlocking the door to the apartment owned by Lancelot, she still saw that he was sleeping soundly. At the very least he was up and shouting at the top of his lungs or murmuring in French. Being as quiet as she could, Mashu decided to cook a little meal for him.

The apartment had been cleaned up by her before she left, and now looking at it, it was marginally roomier than she thought. A majority of floor space being taken up by beer cans and alcohol bottle, and while she didn’t throw away the magazines, she did stack them up and shove them neatly in a corner.

While cleaning though, she found that Lancelot had a sword hidden beneath several layers of trash. Though kept in its scabbard, Mashu did notice that the blade itself was of a western make and origin. She had briefly wondered why or how Lancelot came to have a blade, but quickly pushed it out of her mind for the time being. Maybe the less she knew about the man, the better it would be for her psyche. Already her view of a “father” had been skewed.s

“There, done.” Mashu looked at meal she made, a large helping of friend rice. Looking back behind her, she still found that Lancelot was still asleep. Even while cooking he had yet to wake.

_“Who is Arthur?”_ Mashu wondered to herself before locating her own luggage. She had placed the friend rice in a dish before wrapping it up in saran wrap for Lancelot’s consumption when he woke up. Then she headed to her own lodgings.

She’d later talk to Gudao about proper payment for her lodgings, maybe she could… Work for him? Mashu wondered about that before shaking her head. What exactly could she do for work? She was around the same age as him, it’s not like he had job openings.

“Maybe this trip was a mistake,” she sighed as she opened the door. She was met to a quiet two room apartment, the main room double as a sort of all purpose room while the bathroom was located off to the side. She put her stuff in a corner before falling on a bed.

“At least it’s soft…” Mashu muttered to herself before her eyes slowly closed, the day’s exhaustion having finally caught up to her.

Elsewhere, a man was starring at the apartment building. His darkened skin and hair seemed to blend with the shadows he was in.

“Yeah yeah, I found her. Seems like the guy who owns the place gave her a key. Wha—, ah man! Why do I have to do it?... Okay yeah, you paying does make sense, but can’t you do it? I mean isn’t this your whole entire plan?... Oh yeah that’s a good point, you being in London still means that your physically impossible to do it. Fine, fine, send me the documents and I’ll give ‘em to her… Yeah, yeah, no one will ever know and stuff like that. Angra out.” He closed the phone before looking through the binoculars. “Tch, why do the _fun_ jobs always pay so well…”

“Mom, mom, look! That funny man is playing I-Spy!”

“Now dear, it’s rude to point at weirdly dressed stalker staking out apartment houses in the middle of the day with the police behind him.”

“… Eh?”

“Excuse me sir, but I have to take you in now…”


End file.
